Wrath of the Director
by Hidden Mantis
Summary: A compilation of "epic fails" that sound more epic when written. Rated T for violence, language and some suggestive themes. Also contains 4th-wall breaking humor.
1. The first 4

**Hidden Mantis:** This is my second fanfic! Yay me!

My first one, Halo: Freeman Evolved ain't finished yet. So keep your pants up. I'll find the time. I hope.

Oh yeah. I graduated. Yay me again!

This one is loosely based on a vid I watched in Youtube. So don't go yelling "Hey, this is soooo un-original," and stuff. It's a fanfic. That's why it isn't original.

So, here it is.

**Wrath of the Director**

A dark office building was filled with un-earthly growls. The shouts were soon followed by gunshots ringing in the dark, hellish sky. The screaming eventually stopped soon after the last gunshot ended. Four people were desperately trying to find their way to the boat house somewhere in the little town of Riverside.

One of them was a Caucasian man, maybe in his 60's, who wore a tattered army uniform, maybe unused for several decades. He was limping his way towards his teammates. The second was another Caucasian, a biker, clad in a leather vest, biker gloves and jeans. His tattoos covered most of his forearms, but were now covered with lacerations. The third was a Black man in a red tie and white shirt. He could've been an office worker for any business. The last one was still a Caucasian, a young woman in a pink, blood-drenched sweater, jeans and chucks. She was holding her side, which was the source of the blood flow.

"Louis," said the old man. "I don't think Zoey and Francis can keep up."

"We'll just have to make do, Bill," replied the Black man. "I mean, we can't just leave them here!"

"You don't look so hot either, Bill," the biker said. "That last horde took a chunk out of 'ya. Probably broke your leg bones or sumthin'."

Francis tried to force out a laugh, but he winced from the pain in his arms.

"Heh. Tell that to the Hunter that pounced you," Bill retaliated.

"Guys! Sto-ARGH!" said Zoey as she tried to keep the peace, but she only succeeded in worsening her wound.

"You fellas oughtta know that Zoey's right," Louis said. "The team's in bad shape. Bill got beat, Francis got pounced and that Smoker tongue tore Zoey's side when it squeezed her. I don't know if we're all gonna last here with all this bickering."

Bill and Francis fell silent, ashamed that two grown men were fighting over nothing.

They walked toward the last room in the building. Peering out the windows, they saw their enemy in the streets below, the reason for this Hell on Earth, the Infected.

Ever since the Infection started two weeks ago, people were forced to live life like the stone-ages; foraging for food and surviving in the harsh environment of a city without electricity, running water and shelter. To make things worse, the Infected, people who were afflicted by a virus that devolved them back to the primordial instincts of killing to eat, and, worse yet, cannibalism.

The Infected were still technically human, not like their undead counterparts in movies, but they looked mutated; their mottled gray skin and blood-shot eyes distinguished them from their normal counterparts. Although they were "blessed" with increased strength, stamina and speed, they were constantly bombarded with diseases, probably because of their bad hygiene, or because of the virus.

The Infected were "attracted" – annoyed is a closer word – to high-frequency sounds. Low-frequency ones generally herd them in, but they run after higher-pitched sounds in an attempt to kill the source.

Louis felt a pang in his heart. He felt pity for the monsters below. Some of the Infected were vomiting their stomachs out and leaning on walls. They were sick people, but there was no cure. And when the Survivors blew their cover, it was kill or be killed.

Francis started the bombardment. He broke a window with the butt of his Remington shotgun. He, then, un-holstered his dual M1911 pistols and commenced shooting the zombies below. The other three soon followed his lead.

Zoey's Hunting Rifle made quick work of a Boomer (a bloated special Infected) below. Its bile and innards blew up, covering other Infected with its hormone-scented visceral mass. The other Infected, attracted to the bile, immediately started clawing and punching the slimed monsters.

Bill sprayed on the Infected below with his rusty modified M16A2 while Louis was on anti-flanking duty. Random zombies were running from behind, and he simply shot them down using his Uzi before they could even touch the survivors.

Minutes later, the Survivors' siege ended, leaving battered bodies strewn in the streets.

Louis was the first to get down, using the ledge on the side of the building as a large stairway. Francis was next, making sure his cuts stay closed. The two, then, assisted Bill and Zoey down.

There was a table in the middle of the road below. Luckily, on that table were some rifles that were better than their old, worn weapons, and a lone med kit.

"So how're we gonna split the kit this time?" asked Francis.

"I think we should give it to either Bill or Zoey," Louis replied. "They need it more than us."

"I think Bill should have it," Zoey said. "His leg looks bad."

"No, you should have it Zoe," said Bill. "That Smoker ripped you up real good. You need it more than this old war vet."

"I guess we're going to use the Coin," said Louis.

Francis reached inside his leather vest and extracted a rust-covered, but still shiny gold $1 coin.

"Heads for Bill and tails for Zoey?" asked Francis.

"Seems fair 'nuff," said Bill.

"Alright," said Zoey.

Francis flipped the coin. It was a tails.

"That settles it," said Louis. "Zoey gets the first aid."

"Fine," said a reluctant Zoey.

As she tended to her wounds, the boys turned around, respecting her privacy. She took off her pink sweater and started to open the first aid.

Although there was a constant blaring sound in the distance, the silence was deafening. To break the extremely thick ice, Zoey thought of something.

"This infection feels a lot like a movie gone wrong," she said, adding some antiseptic to her cut.

"A movie!?" said Bill, bewildered. "I think all those zombie flicks got into your head, Zoe."

"No really. It really is kinda like a sick movie, except it's worse than the movies," she said, tying down her white shirt to close the cut. "I mean, the director must be pretty demented."

"I think it's more like a video game, like Counter-Strike," said Louis, earning the confused gazes of his friends.

More silence followed.

"What?" Louis asked.

* * *

In a dusty town, somewhere in the Middle East, a special tactics officer, rank Captain, was disarming a bomb that terrorists planted in a shipment. One mistake and their lives would vanish, as well as the valuable supplies for an ongoing war.

His assistant, a private, was excited for his first day in the job. He was so excited he absentmindedly thought out loud, "This is just like a video game!"

Caught in his unawares, the Captain asked "Which one do you have in mind?"

"I'm thinking Left 4 Dead."

"Left 4 Dead? I don't think this is the one… Maybe that other one Valve made."

"You mean Half-Life?"

"No. That other one. What was it called? Anti-terrorist?"

"Ooh! I know! It's… uh… Counter-Attack?"

And so they bickered on, forgetting the task at hand.

As they muttered about video game names, the bomb exploded. A lone terrorist smiled, as he hallucinated that he heard the extremely audible words "Terrorists Win" in his mind.

* * *

As Zoey tied down the last of the bandages, she put her sweater back on.

"Alright guys. I'm ready."

They resupplied their ammo and replaced some weapons. Louis and Francis went with the Benelli Semi-Automatic Shotgun, Bill went with a better M16A3 Assault rifle, and Zoey took a less-rusty Hunting Rifle.

They looked around to find a way over a large concrete obstacle. Louis eyed a forklift holding a huge concrete slab.

"Hey guys, maybe we could lower that forklift over there," he said.

As they approached the forklift, they heard the distinct sobbing of a Witch. Everyone went silent.

"I'll go check where the Witch is," whispered Francis. Everyone else nodded.

Francis found the Witch in the worst possible position right now: right beside the forklift. He went back to report the situation.

"Horseshit!" said Bill. "Argh!"

"I guess we're gonna have to startle that Witch," said Francis. And before anyone could volunteer, he ran towards the Infected woman in an attempt to cap it in one shot.

"Francis NO!" Zoey screamed. But it was too late. Francis already took the shot, ripping part of the Witch's arm off.

It was injured, but too angry to notice any pain as it lunged at Francis with its huge claws, two of them finding their mark near his intestines. He fell, clutching at his side.

Zoey pulled out both her pistols, tears in her eyes, and shot the Witch repeatedly in the gut. It went down, peacefully resting its head on the asphalt.

"Francis you IDIOT!" Zoey yelled angrily. She wanted to hit him with the butt of her pistol, but she couldn't. She just cried her heart out, kneeling on the pavement while Louis and Bill rushed to help Francis up.

"You better drink these," said Bill, giving Francis some pain killers. "You might bleed out soon."

"Old man! You've gone soft on me!" said Francis, spitting out some blood. "This is nuthin'."

Although Francis said it was nothing, Francis still took the pills. The pain subsided, but he was still bleeding.

"We gotta move fast," said Bill. "Francis won't last for long in this condition,"

"Now now, Zoey. Don't go turning Witch on me," Louis said jokingly.

"Shut up," she said as she tried to stifle a giggle and a sniffle.

As they went near the forklift, Louis realized that if they lowered the concrete ramp, it would crush a car underneath it. The car had its alarm on. That meant risking a horde to come down on them.

"Guys, I got an idea," said Louis.

Everyone huddled around, intent on listening in to Louis and their surroundings, making sure no Smoker or Hunter was around.

"We should stay in the doorway in that theater over there. Bill and Francis are in-charge of shoving the Infected that are gonna come from everywhere. Zoey and I are on Smoker/Hunter duty."

"Who's gonna start up the lift?" said Zoey.

"I will," said Bill. "It's more practical that way."

Francis didn't want to be left out in the action, but he just kept it to himself, remembering that what he did just then to the Witch was already taxing the team's patience. He didn't volunteer.

Everyone took their places while Bill limped toward the forklift. The moment he moved a lever, the lift started lowering its load.

Bill ran as fast as his battered leg could carry him. As he arrived at the doorway, he heard concrete slamming into steel, then car alarms ringing in the night sky. Next, a huge un-earthly screaming was ringing along with the blaring alarms; a madman's orchestra was playing.

Infected ran pouring from all sides, except from behind the survivors. Some of the zombies tried to penetrate their defense, but their attempts were in vain. Even one Hunter, pouncing on Francis, didn't deal any damage as Zoey smacked it in the back of the head with her rifle, breaking its spine. As it fell, Francis kicked it away, sending its corpse flying towards other Infected, knocking them down.

The quartet was unstoppable. No zombie could penetrate their perfect defense.

Soon, the roadside quieted down, leaving only the stench of the recent dead.

"I think that's about enough Infected for today," said Louis.

"Come on! We're just getting started!" piped Francis.

"Cut it out you two," said Bill. "We haven't even reached the safe house yet."

"Bill's right," said Zoey. "We better get moving."

The group walked up the ramp, Zoey capping some Infected ahead with her sniper rifle. Louis and Francis took the lead, blowing up a Boomer and a Smoker who were beside each other. Everyone was in the mood to plow their path towards safety.

A bus was blocking the road ahead, leaving only a pathway big enough for another bus to go through. The road ahead was blocked by roofing materials and an iron fence.

Turning left, they saw the familiar spray painted symbol of a house with a cross on it.

"We're near a Safe House!" shouted Zoey excitedly.

But they didn't know the dangers that lurked in the smog ahead.

An angry growl – it was louder than a scream, but it was too deep to be a scream – was heard. The earth shook, like a herd of cattle were on a stampede, but there were no cattle.

"Oh shit no…" Louis said to himself. "TANK!!"

It threw a boulder in the middle of the group, scattering them. Zoey, standing right in front of it, was stunned by its demi-human biceps. She stood there too long; the Tank backhanded her face, breaking her jaw and sending her flying towards the bus.

"Everyone, get back!" shouted Bill. Everyone ran backwards, shooting at the Tank when they had time.

Zoey ran towards the Minigun, expecting everyone else to run there, too. She opened her mouth to try to shout, but a sharp pain shot up her jaw. It was broken, and it hurt like hell. Soon, she realized that she couldn't breathe properly.

As Louis tried to escape the alley with Bill, the Tank suddenly swooped upon them with unnatural speed for a creature so large. It promptly smacked Bill right into a post, smashing his neck. Bill didn't move anymore.

Once again, the Tank tried to throw a piece of concrete. This time, it aimed for Louis. Zoey, feeling faint, still tried to shoot the concrete out of the sky. Louis did the same, trying to find cover behind a wrecked car. The combined firepower of the auto-shotgun and the sniper broke the projectile, but not the Tank's resilience.

The Tank knocked the car away, into the direction where Louis was just half a second ago. Francis never stopped firing from his corner; the fear was etched right into his eyes.

Francis ran backwards, trying to backtrack to the Safe House. Louis went first, shooting at the Tank with Francis.

Francis' wounds got the better of him. He walked too slowly; the Tank caught up. It hit him right through a convenience store window, smashing the portal, its contents, and Francis.

Zoey was in tears by then. She couldn't do anything, and she was barely alive. She was choking.

Louis was scurrying towards the Safe House now, grasped by the fear. Unknowingly, the Tank threw a rock at him, hitting his leg. His bones shattered under the pressure.

As Zoey took her place in the Minigun, she heard Louis' blood-curdling scream.

"It's crushing me!! I can't breathe!" Louis screamed, his efforts falling only on deaf ears. Only the Tank could serve its purpose here.

Louis' lungs were being filled by his own blood, his broken ribs slashing arteries inside. He couldn't speak now. He was drowning in his own bodily fluids.

Zoey was crying hard while she was on the Minigun. Her friends were gone; she was the only one left. This freak incident left her all alone in this zombie-infested city.

Soon, the Tank came to finish the job it started: kill all the survivors. It roared and stomped its way towards the Minigun.

Zoey took this chance to shoot at the huge monster in fast succession. The Tank attempted to throw another concrete slab, only the projectile disintegrated in its hands; Zoey shot it to bits.

It took a while, but the Tank kneeled down eventually, holes peppering its tendons, muscles and body. It rolled down the ramp, dead.

Zoey's face was now caked in blood, sweat and tears. But she had to press on. She had to live. For her friends.

She walked back toward the Safe House, almost certain she heard the ghosts of her companions cheering her on.

As she turned the bus's corner again, something unsightly was waiting there. A whole horde of Infected, maybe 40 strong, was waiting for her, snarling and sprinting towards her. She couldn't scream. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't even murmur.

A tongue lashed out from the crowd, wrapping around her body. The Smoker fished her in, grabbing her before she could shoot back.

Zoey, realizing her demise, closed her tear-soaked eyes and waited for the inevitable…

Director: Excellent. That was a great show, wouldn't you agree?

* * *

Assistant: Erm… why do you have to be so sadistic?

Director: The folks love sadists! Damage report.

Assistant: Bill was the first to go down. Suffered damage to his 7th Cervical Vertebra and Tibia. Was paralyzed and died of lack of oxygen to brain.

Francis was next. Bleeding from arm lacerations and an abdominal laceration. Head was crushed against a shelf in a convenience store near the Safe House. Instant death.

Louis' lungs were collapsed and filled with blood. Ribs crushed, and so was his Femur. Crushed to death.

Zoey had a deep cut in her left side, bandaged but was bleeding during the fight. Beat and clawed to death by a Horde and a Smoker.

Director: Good… *cue evil laughter*

* * *

**Hidden Mantis**: These stories are based on actual Left 4 Dead gameplay. I only take "epic fails" that look real epic.

R&R please! I think I did a bad job with the ending… What do you think?

Gonna do the next chap for my 1st fanfic. So be patient. :D

Mantis, out!


	2. The 4eigners

**Hidden Mantis:** Hurrah. All that time and work paid off!

Extensively long and more epic than the last chapter, I'm showing you guys my first fail (also my first game) in Left 4 Dead. Me and my other friends were playing on Lan when this happened.

* * *

Yuri woke up inside a locked bathroom, the air inside already stale. There were no windows to breathe through. Just the wooden door.

He remembered that before he passed out, he and two others were going to Riverside. In a clearing just before the fishing dock, their ticket out of the Infection, they encountered a Tank. The last thing he saw before being knocked out was a tree branch, then blackness.

Yuri coughed. The air was getting staler by the minute. His head was throbbing, maybe because of the oxygen-deprived air, maybe because of the hit with the branch, maybe both.

Suddenly, he heard gunshots coming from outside. It meant only one thing: Survivors. In the hot and musty air, he knew he had only one shot to live, and that was to shot out for help. But then, if the people didn't hear him, he'd lose all the oxygen left in the bathroom.

"Help!" he shouted with a heavy and cracking accent. "Get me out ov here!" He pounded on the door with all his might and tried to make as much noise as possible.

Meanwhile, Gina and the others were nearing the docks. Right after they tackled a throng of Infected, she heard some muffled yelling from behind a bathroom door. "I'm locked inside! Help me!"

Yuri felt his throat tighten. He let out another cough. I don't know how long I can last, he thought. In the darkness of the bathroom, his vision was getting dimmer and dimmer by the second, even though his eyes were just starting to adjust to the darkness.

Just then, he thought he heard a woman's voice saying "Get away from the door; I'm gonna blast it down." Hallucination or no hallucination, Yuri complied, curling up his body beside the toilet, something he didn't think would do in a lifetime.

Gina pointed her Spas-12 at the doorknob and pulled the trigger. Inside, splinters and shrapnel flew some inches from Yuri's face, right towards the back of the room. He coughed from the dust and debris, then threw himself at the door, trying to gulp in fresh air, almost failing to cough the CO2-rich air out of his lungs.

Jorgina glanced at the man, wearing a mess of hair, torn black slacks, leather dress shoes, a white button-down shirt, and green tie, spread-eagled at her feet. She noticed that he was in a coughing fit. Was he Infected? Was he turning into a Smoker? Or was he just stuck in there for sometime? Staying on the safe side, she pointed her shotgun at the man.

Just after gaining all the air he needed, Yuri looked up, almost blinded by the relative brightness of the picnic shed's lights he was right under. There were a few picnic tables. The benches seemed lost. Maybe other survivors took them to make barricades?

Yuri also saw a young woman, probably the voice he heard, pointing a Spas at him. She looked Asian, but had a hint of North-Atlantic in her complexion, lanky, who sported a bob-cut - still smooth 2 weeks after first Infection, a black blazer, fluffy at the shoulders (some of the down fell off), a red tube top (the blazer was unbuttoned), a denim miniskirt, and striped, black and white stockings (ripped and bitten off at some spots).

"Woah," Yuri half-moaned, half-exclaimed. "Conrad's gonna like you."

"Who's Conrad?" asked a wierded-out Gina.

"Another Russian colleague of mine. I see you're immune, too," said Yuri, coughing more quietly as he stood and brushed the dust off his pants. Gina kept her gun pointed at him.

"You're immune, too?"

"See this bitemark?" said Yuri as he showed her his left sleeve, revealing a hole that resembled human teethmarks. Inside, the flesh was slightly bruised but obviously healed.

"So I guess you are," said Gina, lowering her shotgun.

Yuri looked around, realising that the girl had companions. One guy, clean-shaven, sported a strap-on helmet with a spike on the top, a long-sleeved leather jacket full of patches with skulls and demons, denim jeans, and heavy steel toe boots with spikes on the tips. He carried a Spas-12.

The other one was an old man, with the features that reminded Yuri of Sean Connery. He wore a blue beret, a faded blue NATO uniform, and mud-caked combat boots. He had a G36 with him.

On the table, he saw a scoped M14, the same one he had just before he got knocked out.

"I'm Gina," said the woman, holding out her right hand, cradling the shotgun with her left. Yuri shook with her.

"I'm Kurt," said the biker. "Velcom to the team."

"Are you German?" asked Yuri, almost rudely asking whether he was a NeoNazi. "Yes I am," Kurt said and fell quiet.

"The name's Mario," said the NATO veteran. Yuri could sense in his accent that he was Italian.

"So, what's your name? I don't wanna call you 'Bathroom Boy'," kidded Mario.

"It's Yuri," said Yuri. "Mind if I get my rifle back?" he said, pointing to the sniper.

The trio shrugged, and Yuri grabbed it from the table.

"Who'd have the nerve to lock you up?" asked Gina.

"I think my friends did," said Yuri, "To save me from being scavenged by the Infected while I was unconcious. A Tank knocked me out and maybe they thought I was a burden."

"Tank?" asked Kurt.

"The gigantic Infected with enormous muscles."

"Oh," said Gina. "We call those 'Behemoths', but Tank sounds better and you can say it faster, too."

"Practical..." muttered Mario, nodding his head and stroking his beard.

"So, should we start our way to the docks?" said Yuri.

"Whaddaya mean? We're already at the docks," said Mario.

Yuri turned around and behind the small bathroom cubicle, 25 yards awa was a house by the river. Beside it was a small dock, probably just enough for one fishing vessel to dock onto.

Yuri grabbed some ammunition from a pile on one of the picnic tables. The others resupplied as well.

"Do you guys know who puts these ammo stashes everywhere?" asked Gina.

"Hell if I know," Mario replied, "But they sure are helpful."

Loud cracks were heard and some of the Infected around the house slumped into bushes and on the ground. As Gina, Kurt and Mario turned to see the source, Yuri shot another zombie just in front of the main door.

"What are you guys waiting for?" asked Yuri. "Lets clean up the yard!!"

Kurt didn't hesitate to run forward and shout a battlecry in Deustch.

--------------half-time break-------------

Gina wiped the blood from her face, her hair slick with red. All that close-range shooting left her splattered with the blood of her victims. She went to wash herself in the river only when they were all sure the Infected weren't coming.

Kurt went to clean his boots in the river as well, the blood on the spikes shining against the flourescent light. He kicked some zombies with his boots, wounding some and killing others.

Yuri and Mario decided to clean up as well, although both kept their rifles and sharp eyes with them.

"So, kid, how'd a Commie like you end up in the States?" Mario asked Yuri.

"My family defected here during the Cold War, thinking that Communism didn't really help the people of Russia," Yuri started. "I never grew up in the Motherland, but my parents kept me speaking the language. My accent is proof of that."

"I see," Mario said.

"I work as an assistant programmer for Nanosoft," Yuri said.

"Not much into the computer stuff," said Mario, "but them strategy games interest me sometimes. Can't find the time to use 'em anyway."

"Gina's a rockstar," Mario said. "She was on her first gig when the Infection came."

"Ahh, so that's why she's dressed like that," Yuri muttered.

"Kurt was part of the infamous Nefilheim's Ryders biker gang. He had a helmet customized just for his biker wardrobe."

"Hey Kurt," shouted Yuri as he dripped away from the river's shore. "Did you ever try poking a zombie with that helmet of yours?"

"Thye're not zombies," Gina interjected while she scrubbed her face with water. "They're Infected."

"They aren't vampires, so that's fine by me," said Mario as he waded out of the water with clean boots.

"Actually," said Kurt, "Yes. I did try to impale ze Infected. Turned out to be a bad idea; I got stuck and za thing survived and clawed at my back. It tore off my Nefilheim's Ryders patch," he said as he turned around to show a rip behind his jacket.

"I shot the bastard off," said Mario. "And I admit, he looked funny bending down with a zombie hat." Mario snickered. Kurt fell quiet again.

Everywhere was silent except for the occasional gunshot from the distance. Having nothing to do, Yuri just sat on a wooden dock pile and contemplated on Gina's face and features.

Her jet-black hair was still wet, the water droplets following the contours of her neck and body. Her skin shone in the pale moonlight, goosebumps revealing that she felt cold. She was a beautiful sight.

"You like Gina, huh?" whispered Mario.

"Maybe..."

"This Infection leaves us uncertain about things," Mario declared. "She might be the last woman on Earth for all I know. So if I were you - ."

The conversation was cut short, though. Because on that moment -.

"Newburg city is burning!" Gina shouted and pointed at the city on the other side of the river.

"My God..." Mario said to himself, but Yuri couldn't help but overhear.

"Ve've got to get out ov here," Kurt said.

Almost on cue, the sound of static came out of the house. Kurt and Gina came waded out of the water as quick as they could, splashing mud right onto Mario's boots.

"Ugh!" complained the old man. "I just cleaned these babies!"

"Zere's a radio inside!" exclaimed Kurt, not minding Mario's predicament.

"... John and Amanda S... ve, pl..." went the radio, static filling the Survivor's ears.

The signal grew stronger and stronger as Gina adjusted the frequency, her hair dripping all over the planks of the wooden floor.

"We're John and Amanda Slater," the radio finally relayed clearly. "We are on a small fishing vessel en route to any docks nearby requesting pick-up. If anyone out there is alive, please respond."

Kurt picked up the reciever. "Hello?" he said.

"I can't believe it!" said the same man's voice. "Amanda! We have survivors!"

"What's your position, over?" asked the man.

"Umm... Ve're at the dock house in Riverside. Ven can you pick us up, over?"

"You German?"

"Yes..." Kurt trailed off.

"We'll pick you up in 30 minutes. In the meantime, clean out the docks from Infected while we're coming. John Slater out."

Kurt suddenly aimed his Spaz at the front door, as if expecting a trickle of zombies sprinting their way.

"What's up with you, kid? asked Mario.

"I sink ze Infected are coming," replied Kurt, shifting his eyes in alert.

"Whaddaya think this is? Some sorta bad zombie movie?" asked a bewieldered Mario. "Lets go upstairs and scout for the beasts."

"Cool with that," said Gina.

"Same here," said Yuri.

Kurt, embarrased, went up with them.

Up the stairs, they met an Infected corpse, sprawled on the ground, part if its face carved off. Blood and human meat was splattered on the wall behind it.

The upper room wasn't much. It was small and empty, albeit a table was there. One wall looked like it gave in from an Infected assault, but the windows weren't broken.

"I'm that good," said Yuri, talking about the zombie he capped.

"So you punched a hole in this fella's brain with a sniper rifle. Nuthin' special about that, kiddo," said Mario.

"You see this hole?" said Yuri as he walked toward and pointed at the wall fronting the house. A bullethole met his fingers, a meter away from the closest window.

"Woah, kid. You're something else!" exclaimed Mario. The others were shocked as well. "Where'd you learn to shoot?"

Yuri blushed for a while, but eventually spoke: "Videogames. I played Call of Duty 4."

-  
The Bog/War Pig| |2307 hrs, 200X| |The Middle East| |SSgt. Griggs

"What do we need here, soldier?" asked Lt. Mendoza to the engineer. Griggs guarded the perimiter with an LMG.

"Sir," said the engineer, "Teh fix yer old War Pig 'ere, we're gonna need Four Solid Metal Gears. Wer'a we gonna get that for a huge tank like 'er?"

"Don't worry son," Mendoza assured him. "We're gonna get a supply drop soon. I'll radio in the tools and materials you need, but get this thingk working by morning. We don't want the OpFor ambushing us."

-----------------------------

A Tundra| |1621 hrs, 20XX| |The Middle East| |Old Snake

A blizzard was gnawing through all the vegitation in the area. Trees were stripped of leaves, looking like they were deviod of life. Snow-flakes the size of coins were falling. Cold, biting winds were blowing.

In this harsh environment, a man was trudging through the snow. His chothes blended with the ground beneath his feet, not only in color but also in texture. He had a mask un, but even top-to-toe protection couldn't save him from the citting winds against his face. He coughed an old man's cough.

On one hill, someone was waiting for that man. Hiding in a wolf-like exoskeleton, she was crying.

The exoskeleton opened up and exposed Crying WOlf to the biting cold, but then it gave her the horrible ability to kill her enemies from a distance with an enormous railgun sniper rifle. An enemy like Old Snake.

Meanwhile, Snake took a look at the hill. "There's something wrong with the place," he asid with a voice that cracked when he spoke. "It's too... quiet. It's a Silent Hill."

-----------------------------

Dear Journal,

It's been two hours since I arrived here in Silent Hill, searching for my daughter Cheryl. I haven't found any humans yet in the town, save for Cybil the policewoman. But I did find these... things. SOme of them looked like dogs with their skin flayed off, their eyes and teeth dripping with blood. Then there were thes birds or bats that whenever they flapped their webbed wings, the blood splatters from the pores on their bodies. Its like they came from some nightmare world.

The fog in here is so thickm the sun seems blotted from the sky. I know that this fog has something to do with the oddness of the town, but I don't know how they're connected yet.

I'm going to the Elementary school. I've found some clues that Cheryl might be there. I'm not entirely sure, but I'm ready to face the Resident Evil inside.

Harry Mason

* * *

Mansion in the Mountians| |1807 hrs, 200X| |Racoon City| |Chris Redfield

Sprawled on the ground, Chris Redfield shook himself concious and stood up slowly, taking a look around him as he rose.

The S.T.A.R.S. operative pondered upon where he was; he saw richly-painted landscapes hung on marble walls, windows lined with Italian frames and bueatiful drapes, a cold marble floor that looked creamy. Then, he remembered that he was in a mansion in the mountains of Racoon City.

He felt lost. Chris didn't know where his fellow operatives were.

"Its like I was Left for Dead," he said.

* * *

Like a great white ninja, one Boomer managed to sneak up the boathouse's balcony, its fluid-filled body swaying back and forth. It caught the survivors at their unawares, puking through a window it broke and sliming Gina with its hormone-scented bile.

"Yuck!" she whined, scooping the gunk of her form like a windshield wiper, splashing some droplets on Mario.

"Watch where you're splashing that shit Jorgina!" Mario whined.

"We've got runners!" yelled Yuri over the sound of Kurt's shotgun bang and the Boomer's gaseous and nauseating explosion.

Outside, multitudes of Infected were sprinting toward the boathouse, tripping over one another like a crushing wave collapsing onto itself. It looked like the entire residents of Riverside were bent on the destruction of these four survivors; a stampede of death.

"Here zey come!" yelled Kurt.

"We've got to protect Gina!" Mario barked.

Kurt pushed her to one corner that looked stable enough to withstand zombie punches.

A lot of Infected were now swarming the house, jumping through the windows in the first floor, diving through glass and breaking through doors just to kill the bile-soaked Gina.

Kurt and Yuri went out to the balcony, Gina stayed in her corner and watched through the film of slime whether there was anything running towards her, Mario stayed at the top of the stairs, spraying the zombies that were running upwards.

Kurt blasted three Infected away from a minigun that was stationed on the boathouse. Yuri kept his rifle sights aimed at the zombies around Kurt, only stopping to reaload and bat the Infected off Kurt's back.

"Wait here!" shouted Yuri. "I'll go grab a pipebomb on the tables below."

"Sure thing," Kurt shouted back as he was spraying bullets all over the Infected in the front of the house.

Just as Yuri left, a Smoker on the roof lashed its tongue out and grabbed Kurt by the neck, strangling him. By this time, Gina was already in working condition, but she was too busy fighting alongside Mario. Kurt couldn't scream for help!

Yuri threw a pipebomb out to the front side of the house, the Infected pooling in by the ton. The beeping of the smoke detector lured them in, then they vanished in a puff of red, wet smoke.

Yuri went back up, finding Kurt having the life chocked out of him by a tongue coming from the roof. Yuri shot the Smoker off the roof, where it fell in the water behind the boathouse. Kurt gasped for air, dizzy and weak from the strangling.

"You okay?" Yuri asked.

"I'm better now," said Kurt, although his face looked pale.

The quartet fought on for what seemed like an eternity before the Slaters' fishing vessel arrived.

"The boat's here!" yelled Mario. "We're getting out of this hell hole!"

Kurt, Mario and Yuri ran excitedly towards the dock. Gina, on the other hand, was too busy wiping the rest of the Boomer gunk off her body.

She was too busy, in fact, that she didn't notice a Tank enter the house.

The Tank was smaller than any other Tank Gina saw. It approached her quietly, grabbing her by the leg and snapping it in pieces like it were a twig.

"AAAGH!!" Gina screamed out loud. The three men outside heard her just as they started their way on the docks.

"Chyort! Gina!" shouted Yuri. "We've got to help her!!"

"No one gets left behind!" Mario yelled out loud!

Kurt and Mario ran towards the house, only to find that Gina's bloodcurdling scream had lured more Infected to the house. They found themselves too busy to help Yuri kill the Tank.

Yuri ran into the house, finding the Tank bashing its fists into Gina's legs. "Gina!!" he shouted in surprise.

"Die, you bastard!" yelled Yuri at the Tank, attempting to shoot at its head with two M1911s, but missing its face due to the muscular mass almost covering it. It flung one fist at Yuri, knocking him down in one blow.

Yuri continued to shoot at the Tank with full force, its meaty collar still protecting its face. The Tank yelled a victory cry and a cry of pain, once again dealing with the survivor's legs.

Yuri screamed in pain as his right knee and leg were crushed by the Tank's arms. As the Tank stared into Yuri's eyes with hate, Yuri aimed at the monster's forehead and shot. It entered the Infected's brain. The Tank slumped near Yuri's battered body.

Yuri dragged himself towards Gina. "Gina?" Yuri weakly called to her, pulling her towards his lap as he tried to sit up.

"Gina? Babooshka?" Yuri called again. But the girl never moved.

Mixed emotions gripped Yuri there and then. Fear, hatred, suffering, anger. He couldn't move. He didn't notice the Hunter that crept beside him.

Outside, Mario reloaded his rifle, surrounded by half-a-hundred Infected. Kurt was already too battered to move, his body slumped a meter away from him, bruised and bloodied.

One zombie bit him in the leg. He screamed, dropping on his back and onto two Infected behind him.

John Slater saw the entire thing. He knew that it was the end for those survivors, leaving them and the Infected on the shores of Riverside. The screams of the old man chilled his and Amanda's spines.

* * *

Director: What an epic fail. They could've escaped, but they didnt. I think I overdone myself this time! Aren't I right, assistant?

Assistant: Yes sir. *shudders*

Director: Damage report?

Assistant: Gina got pounded, Yuri got ripped, Kurt got beaten, Mario got eaten.

Director: Wow. That sounded like a song.

Assistant: (to himself) A bad one. *shudders*

Director: And kid, it was good of you to think of stashing all that ammo at some point. That way the survivors get to delay their inevitable deaths! *evil laugh*

Assistant: Umm... I thought you did that, sir.

Director: Huh??

If you didn't do it, and I didn't do it, then who did~!?

Assistant: ...

* * *

**Hidden Mantis:** The last chapter sucked, didn't it?

Oh well.

Thanks for reading. R&R please.


End file.
